


Des-ti-ny (noun): A Force or Agency That Predetermines What Will Happen

by alba17



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: M/M, genre: fluff - Freeform, genre: romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-19
Updated: 2010-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 01:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur pines for Merlin, but thinks he's off limits - until he finds out what the dragon said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Des-ti-ny (noun): A Force or Agency That Predetermines What Will Happen

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta**: troygirl68  
> **A/N**: Written for comment_fic prompt: destiny makes a good excuse.

Arthur had been eyeing Merlin surreptitiously for the good part of a month. He'd peek at Merlin when he entered his bedchamber in the morning, and pretend to be asleep, burrowed in his bedclothes. As he watched Merlin go about his duties, Arthur observed the bend and stretch of his limbs, the fall of dark hair on his brow, and the line of his belt as it circled his hips. He tried not to, but he couldn't help imagining his hand circling around Merlin's waist, clasping the hipbone that held up the belt; perhaps slipping under Merlin's tunic to press his fingertips against hot, bare skin... And that way madness lay.

For it was never to be. Arthur was the prince, and Merlin was his servant. While less honourable men might force Merlin to their will that was not Arthur's way. Thus, he continued his silent observation, tormented and excited in turn by Merlin's close proximity. It was all he could do to resist the heat of Merlin's body as he leaned in to buckle Arthur's armour, the deep blue of his eyes as he listened, rapt, to Arthur telling a story, or the pure joy of his dimpled smile when he told a joke.

Arthur told himself he was happy with the way things were, that just having Merlin around was enough. He could always enjoy their banter, Merlin's sense of humour, the crazy excuses for laziness that he came up with; his steadfast, and almost comical, refusal to behave as a proper servant should. And really, the rare occasions on which Arthur could insist that Merlin wear the formal Camelot regalia, elaborately feathered hat atop his mortified expression, made everything worth it.

It should have been enough.

But then Arthur would wake in the night from a bad dream, and Merlin would run into his bedchamber and sweep the hair off his forehead with a cool hand, impossibly large midnight blue eyes peering into his with concern. His full, red lips would be parted, long, pale neck for once bare of a scarf and deliciously vulnerable, his hair mussed from sleep. He was so very, very close to Arthur, hot breath gusting in his face. Arthur felt like weeping with frustration.  
It wasn't enough.

Then came the dragon's battle against Camelot and its defeat at Arthur's hands. Although, Arthur thought it very strange that he couldn't remember anything about it. The last thing he recalled was falling to the ground along with his men. When Merlin told the story afterward, Arthur knew him well enough to be suspicious given the way he averted his eyes, and shifted his feet to and fro. He was lying, Arthur was sure.

The question was, why?

One day, it all came out. Arthur got angry with Merlin for some infraction, probably due to his frustrated yearning for the man rather than anything Merlin had actually done wrong. Nonetheless, he snapped out some insults and ordered Merlin to spend the rest of the day at some gruelling, tedious task involving large quantities of mud and animal waste.   
Merlin finally cracked, unable to laugh it off this time. He stomped off, muttering something under his breath about "wouldn't even be here if I hadn't saved your arse dozens of times. Damned dragon..."

What the devil was he talking about? Arthur stared after him, open-mouthed, Merlin's insubordination forgotten in his bewilderment.

Later he found Merlin vigorously mashing some herbs with a mortar and pestle in Gaius' workshop, frowning at them as if they might get up and walk away.

"Merlin." Arthur stood just inside the door, almost afraid to come any closer. Sure, he'd vanquished magical creatures ten times the size of Merlin, but something about the man's demeanour was more forbidding than even the mightiest of those beasts.

Merlin cut a look over to him, but otherwise didn't acknowledge his presence.

"Merlin!"

"Yes, sire?" Merlin ground out.

"What did you mean about saving my arse and damned dragon?" Arthur spoke slowly, enunciating each word carefully, as if speaking to a child.

"Oh." Merlin paused in his movements. "You weren't supposed to hear that." He managed to look slightly contrite.

"Oh really? And why not?" Arthur took a few steps closer to Merlin, whose hands slowed to a stop.

"Er..." Merlin looked directly at him with those big blue eyes and incongruously, Arthur noticed how thick and dark his eyelashes were. As if against his will, he was propelled even closer: drawn into those indigo pools. Suddenly, he was standing mere inches away from Merlin, so close he could see the shards of pale blue that broke up the deep blue iris.  
Without moving his eyes from Merlin's, he whispered, "Why not?"

Merlin stared back at him, jaw jutting out in silent defiance. But he must have sensed there was no avoiding an answer this time, for he lowered his eyes, and heaved a deep, shuddery sigh as his whole body slumped.

Now the truth was finally going to come out, Arthur thought, with a small thrill of triumph. And Merlin started talking...

~~~

 

The whole story came out then, about Merlin's magic and what the dragon told him, down in the cavern below the castle, and how Merlin, rather than Arthur, had actually defeated the dragon in the big battle. That explained why Arthur couldn't remember it, he thought ruefully. Merlin tactfully avoided detailing how many times he'd saved Arthur's arse, but Arthur inferred that it was _a lot_. He was rather mortified that he wouldn't even be alive but for this pale, skinny servant, who wasn't even a _good_ servant and probably couldn't even lift a proper knight's sword, but who just happened to be a powerful sorcerer. He'd have to do some soul-searching later about what it all meant, but at the moment, he was distracted by what Merlin had said: something the dragon told him about Merlin and Arthur.

"Did you just say something about fate or luck or something? Something the dragon said?"

Arthur had sat in his chair when Merlin began his confession, while Merlin perched on the edge of the table.

"Oh. Right. Well, I don't know how much we can trust what the dragon said, since he turned out to be kind of a wanker. But he kept saying that we had the same destiny, that we were two halves of a coin; that we needed each other. Which is certainly true in your case, because you'd be dead without me." He flashed a gleeful smile at Arthur.

Arthur glared then looked thoughtful. "Destiny, eh?"

"Yeah." Merlin swung his foot and looked down at the floor.

"Hmmm." Arthur rubbed his chin. If Merlin was a sorcerer, then he wasn't just an ordinary servant, was he? He was _almost_ nobility, in a way. After all, he could probably kill any of them at any time, if he wanted. Arthur looked at Merlin with a sense of awe, although he was having trouble reconciling that degree of power with the slight, weedy figure in front of him, who was playing with a piece of string he'd found on the table while Arthur was lost in thought. Arthur rolled his eyes. Merlin was still Merlin, apparently.

That thought led him to some interesting ideas as he watched Merlin's leg swing back and forth, pulling tight the fabric of his britches over his thigh, and...crotch. Suddenly mesmerized by the sight of the fabric loosening and tightening, Arthur couldn't help noticing the bulge between Merlin's legs and imagining what it would be like to undo those britches and slip his hand in there, just to get a touch...

He snapped his eyes away to stop those thoughts in their tracks. They were having a serious conversation here, about destiny and fate and Merlin's, er, magic. Merlin's revelations gave Arthur too much to ponder, especially when his blood was insistently pooling southward. He shouldn't let his base urges distract him, but they did, as ever when Merlin was around, even when he'd just confessed to being a sorcerer.

Arthur studied Merlin's face again. He wondered if the dragon was right, after all. Were their destinies entwined? Maybe Merlin's magic could be used for the good of Camelot, once Arthur became king. He'd never before let himself question his father's ban against magic, but it was difficult to associate Merlin's impish figure with _evil_.

No, Merlin had never been an ordinary servant: No, not at all. That was more true now than ever.

Perhaps that was the key to solving Arthur's dilemma. This destiny business might be the reason he was plagued by these persistent _feelings_ about Merlin. Yes, that must be it. And since Merlin was, um, practically nobility, what with all his magical power, well, then, it hardly mattered at all that he was technically a servant. They were nearly equals, after all... in a sense...well, if a peasant could be the equal of a prince, that is, which he never really could be. Merlin couldn't fight his way out of a ladies' sewing circle and he had no sense of proper decorum whatsoever, and...well.

Arthur's eye fell on Merlin's pink, pouty lower lip, lush and ready for the taking.

Destiny. Yeeaaahh.

"Merlin." The man looked up from his own musing. "Come here." There was no way Arthur was going to stop ordering him around though, no matter what kind of magic Merlin could perform. A prince had to retain some perks, after all.

Merlin looked surprised, as well he should, since Arthur was no more than three feet away from him. Where was "here"?

"Yes, here." Arthur gestured to the space directly in front of him. Merlin looked sceptical and a bit nervous. "Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything to you. Your secret's safe with me."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Really? Are you sure? Your father would have me put to death if he knew."

Arthur gave him a disdainful look. "Since you've saved my life umpteen times, he nearly owes you his kingdom at this point." Merlin gaped at him. "On my honour, I won't tell. Now, didn't I give you an order?"

Merlin gulped and approached Arthur slowly, as if he didn't really trust his words, taking a small step toward him. Not close enough - Arthur waved him forward some more. He took another step, so he was directly in front of Arthur, toes almost touching the prince's. With Merlin in this position, Arthur was confronted unambiguously by his crotch and it was his turn to gulp, mouth going dry with want. He spread his legs wide and took the plunge, gripping Merlin's long-desired hips and pulling him forward, pulse racing with anticipation.

Merlin yelped in an undignified fashion, "Sire!" and his hands flailed for a bit before settling, almost involuntarily, on Arthur's shoulders.

Now what? Arthur thought. Did Merlin want this? At all? In his obsessing about his manservant, he hadn't thought about how Merlin might feel about it. He just...wanted.

"Merlin." Arthur's hands pressed into the soft flesh of Merlin's bottom, thumbs circling those enticing hipbones. He pinned down Merlin with a direct gaze and overcame his anxiety – he had to know if this was okay. "Destiny isn't necessarily fixed. You have to want it too. Do you?"

Merlin's eyes went from Arthur's to his mouth, to his hair, down to his chest, taking in a shallow, shuddery breath. "Yes," he breathed, finally moving his hands slowly over Arthur's body, at first just skimming over the surface. Arthur shivered under the delicate press of Merlin's long fingers, the light touch an exquisite torture. Then Merlin's movements became more purposeful as he explored the hard planes and curves of Arthur's shoulders, and stroked the muscular swell of the back of his arm, all the while leaning into Arthur and gazing wide-eyed at him, lips parted, plump and inviting. Arthur could barely breathe and he felt light-headed. All his blood seemed to have gone to his cock, which was now as rigid as a knight standing guard over the king's chamber.

Merlin grasped Arthur's shoulders tightly, thumbs curling around the meat of his upper arm, and they were both breathing heavily, caught in this moment when everything between them was in flux. Arthur had the exhilarating sensation of standing on the edge of a cliff, about to step into new and uncharted territory, and unable ever to return to the way things were.

"You...sire...what," Merlin fumbled for words, while caressing Arthur's arms with his thumbs, small little strokes that set Arthur on fire.

"Shhh. Shhh. Don't say anything. It's all right," Arthur said as he tugged him closer. In the process, Merlin lost his balance and tumbled awkwardly into Arthur's lap, slender arms and legs akimbo. Arthur scooped him into a more comfortable position, and wrapped his arms around his thin frame. Delighted at this turn of events, Arthur chuckled in satisfaction. Merlin settled into the embrace, still looking uneasy, but with a smile nudging at his lips. It grew larger when he realised he was basically sitting on Arthur's full erection. "Oh!" He giggled nervously. "My. Sire. That's, um, well.." He snickered. "Wow."

"Plenty of time to deal with that later," Arthur purred as he nuzzled Merlin's neck, that length of pale, lickable skin, and he couldn't resist darting his tongue out for a taste. Merlin's skin tasted of cloves and almonds, and some indefinable thing that was purely his own. Arthur sighed happily, and inhaled, nose burrowed in the warmth of the pulse point, his hand gently curled around the base of Merlin's neck.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," Arthur murmured into the delicate skin behind Merlin's ear. "You've been driving me crazy." He stroked Merlin's chest and pulled him even closer. "Perhaps you've enchanted me?"

Merlin leaned in and whispered, "You found me out. This is all part of my master plan of evil." His mouth hovered over Arthur's. "The next step is to tie you to the bed and render you boneless and whimpering."

"I'm all yours. It's destiny, after all," Arthur barely managed to reply in a rough voice, as Merlin kissed him fervently, all searching lips and sleek tongue. Yes, Arthur thought, he'd be thanking that dragon for a long time to come.


End file.
